Unfortunate To Have Known You
by SilentSleepingInTheCold
Summary: Prelude To Forgotten Emotion. What is left for a hero after the death of an enemy? Harry tries to pick up his life but when is it ever that easy. Onesided HPDM, DMBZ
1. Waking up

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Summary: Prelude to Forgotten Emotion. I don't suggest you read Forgotten Emotion if you haven't read it yet if you read this story first, you can, but that will tell you what happens to Harry and Draco in the end. Now why ruin that surprise? ;) What is left for a hero after the death of an enemy? Harry tries to pick up where he left off before Voldemort's defeat but it's not that easy to pick up a stick and walk down an unwalked trail. Harry's bound to fall flat on the ground in the mud eventually.

Pairings: One-sided HP/DM, DM/BZ

A/N Okay I promised to get a prelude out for Forgotten Emotion, and here it is! Note that this is the beginning of Harry and Draco's realtionship after Voldemort is destroyed. I hate writing Voldemort's death but I will try it. Enjoy!

* * *

The room was filled with dark figures everywhere, shadows flitting past him at every turn. Harry couldn't remember much, only that his Avada Kedavra hit its mark straight on. He knew he'd destroyed the other Horcruxes with a great deal of energy, and yet still he had not faced Voldemort. 

Now it was time to watch the hooded, snake like creature fall to the ground at his feet. The hate he felt in that one moment was greater then ever and the power flowing through him while he cast the curse had been terrible. It had felt great but a real taste of that had woken Harry up.

No wonder wizards fell for it, the dark power was enough to make someone high for life. Harry wondered if it was like a drug in some ways. But now all he saw was dark shadows and he felt nothing. Was he in danger of losing his life? He couldn't tell.

Suddenly and slowly, Harry started to hear the voices. "Is he going to wake up?" He'd tried to answer the question himself countless times but his lips didn't move. 'Yes! I'm awake!' he tried to cry out, but it never came out.

Now they were saying, "Minerva, he's not going to wake up. He hasn't responded for two weeks." Who was that? He couldn't tell and he was still trying to lift up his eyelids to see.

"He will, he has to. He's survived this long, he will survive a little longer." That was McGonagall, wasn't it? Harry knew that stern voice anywhere. 'I'm awake! See my eyes are opening!' Harry tried to say again.

His lips opened but he only made a squeak. His eyes lifted yet a heaviness pulled them down again. It was like waking up and still being tired only he was bursting to get up and moving.

"Did he make a noise?" McGonagall asked urgently. Harry heard footsteps and scrambling on the floor. At least he thought he did. Oh yes, he did. Someone defiantly pushed the bed he was lying on. If he was lying on a bed… It only made sense, though, for him to be a bed that was this comfortable.

"I think he did," someone said to his side.

"Hermione? Is that you?" Harry tried to say. Yet again all that came out was a squeak of a voice. With great effort and concentration Harry lifted his eyes open to be blinded with the light in the room.

"HARRY!" was the response he got, many voices shouting at him from every side he could imagine at this time. Harry moaned and closed his eyes again. He couldn't take the light no matter how much he wanted to see Ron and Hermione's faces again.

"Harry, you're awake! We were afraid you'd gone and left us. Oh Merlin, it's so good to know you're awake, I was so afraid!" Hermione rambled on and Harry groaned again. He was flattered Hermione was hysterical to know he was awake but could she not tone it down? He felt awful.

"Hermione, you're going to make him more sick then he already is." That was Ron, Harry was sure of it. 'Hehe, Ron, you're right, she is going to make me feel more ill now,' Harry thought. He was through with attempting to speak; it obviously was not going to happen anytime soon.

"Mr. Weasley, would you please take Miss Granger out for a bit? Madame Pomfrey needs to examine and help Harry wake up," McGonagall was saying to his friends. 'No, don't take them away from me!' Harry thought, but his friends were already agreeing and leaving the room.

'So much for friendly faces when I wake up,' Harry grumbled to himself. "I trust you know how to wake him up," McGonagall said. 'You don't know how to wake me up?' Harry tried to cry out.

"Yes I do, Minerva, stop worrying about it. Mr. Potter, if you can hear me, which I'm sure you can by now, stop trying to speak. You won't be able to for some time," the healer said to him.

'Wondeful, I will have so much fun recovering from whatever this is,' Harry thought.

* * *

"Blaise, what's with Granger?" Draco asked his friend at dinner that same day. They were finally going to start their seventh year of Hogwarts and finish school. The war had taken a year out of all their lives, but now was the time to finish up their schooling. 

Or something like that. Draco hadn't been listening to the speech McGonagall gave the first day of school, which had been five days ago. He'd been looking over at the seat that Potter would have been occupying if he wasn't in the hospital wing recovering from his encounter with Voldemort.

The whole school was itching to hear the truth, straight from Harry, about what had taken place on that final battleground between the two wizards. Draco was one of those, as he was planning on showing his full support for the 'light side' this year. He now had a few reasons for this, but he wasn't going to think too much on those this year. It was time to forget his past and move on, at least that was what he'd told himself time and time again.

"I heard she's overwhelmed. Potter showed a sign of life today," Blaise replied, he always knew everything going on in the school. Draco didn't want to know where he got the information from, all he wanted to know was what it was.

"Well that's good, I guess," Draco replied. Inside, though, he was relieved. Now he could visit Potter and ask him if the information Draco had given the order once had been worth it. He still felt satisfied with himself for doing that little job and not getting caught by the Death Eaters.

"Yeah, I know. They've got their saviour back now." Blaise laughed, and Draco joined in with him. Draco looked to his right and sighed. Pansy was sitting beside him, looking displeased that Granger was so happy. Pansy wasn't fawning over Draco this year and it was a blessing of sorts.

"Oh joy," Pansy replied, punching Draco in the shoulder to feel better. Draco allowed her to do this, as they'd finally settled on being 'just friends.' Draco would leave it at that.

Draco and Blaise only laughed at her response. They all couldn't say they cared about the Gryffindors, but they'd agreed this year to be nice to them. The war had taught them a few things, and now being nice was all they could do.

Review please. 


	2. Helping Hands

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Oh, how I wish I did, but I would torture his character more then Rowling ever does! And considering, that's very evil...

Moving on!

A/N Thank you to all who read Forgotten Emotion and to all who decided to continue with the Universe by reading this . I thank **Choryni** for beta-ing the story as well . This is a small update compared to what I usually like to spit out, but my imagination runs low sometimes! But we all know an annoyed Harry is a cute harry, "Awwwww"!

Pairings: One-sided HP/DM, DM/ZB

* * *

"Mr. Potter, please stop trying to speak!" Madame Pomfrey said frustratingly. 

The healer's comment was made because Harry had yet again squeaked his way into a sentence, and managed to speak in a high-pitched squawking not unlike a seagull's screech.

"But I-," Harry protested in his seagull-voice. If Harry had not been bed ridden for almost a month and a half now, he'd be laughing at himself for the way he sounded. But since that was the case, even managing a sentence with his screeching voice made him feel proud.

"Mr. Potter, do not stress your vocal chords. There is a reason they do not work perfectly, and that is because I almost had to regenerate half of you throat from scratch. Be happy you're able to sit up, sleep, and wake up regularly now," she chastised him.

Harry was happy he was able to move enough to sit up when Hermione and Ron came to visit him. But that ability did not come without pain.

Nevertheless, Harry grinned and took the pain for all it was worth, vowing he would stand it at least until Hermione and Ron left.

After an hour of enjoyment his friends were shooed out of the infirmary by Madame Pomfrey. When they were out of Harry's sight he lay back down on the bed, feeling a bit grumpy.

_I hate this bed, Madame Pomfrey. I want to get out of it... Please just one day of walking? I don't care if my legs break from it. I want to go outside! I feel like I'm in a fucking cage… _

Madame Pomfrey stood above him as he lay pathetically on the bed and was challenging him with her eyes.

He knew from the look on her face that his wish wasn't going to be granted.

Harry also knew that while his body was almost perfectly docile, his eyes were giving off a stubborn glare.

The healer noticed it and responded, "Mr. Potter, let yourself heal. Facing Voldemort took a lot out of you. Or do I have to remind you of that?"

Harry shook his head slowly, not daring to speak.

Madame Pomfrey appeared satisfied with him. "Good, now rest some more, Potter. Please." Madame Pomfrey said.

The healer then took her leave, heading for her office away from the hospital beds and left Harry to his thoughts.

Harry stared up at the ceiling, tracing patterns through the stones with his eyes. He was bored, and now understood how people went insane.

In fact, He was surprised he had retained his mind through healing.

He couldn't shift his body and he was stiff lying on top of the bed. The covers annoyed him and he wanted to push them off. He felt like a broken robot, honestly.

But that was to be expected when half your throat is torn open from a renegade spell.

Voldemort had done the worst to him, as he had done to Voldemort. Except, Voldemort had died. Killing Voldemort hadn't been as satisfying as Harry had thought it would be, but there had been a small victory cheer inside of him as he watched the other wizard fall to the scorched ground.

Harry couldn't remember most of that battle, other then the blur of it. Voldemort was the only clear image he had of that night. Killing off the last of Voldemort's soul was what Harry had done but he'd lost an untold amount of time for completing that 'prophecy'.

Harry counted up the total of his wounds again, for what was probably his only source of entertainment before going to sleep once more.

Throat torn open, muscles destroyed, and terrible amounts of blood lost. The worst had been the spell that clamped down on his lungs and refused to let him breathe for five minutes. He didn't know who put that one on him but it had happened while he fell into unconsciousness after killing Voldemort.

Harry sighed, something he could do without feeling pain, and attempted to move his slowly mending muscles. Every time he made a movement with his legs or arms, his muscles would ache with stiffness. He was being a bit reckless trying to stand up at this moment in his recovery, but he _couldn't_ bear lying in bed anymore.

Harry managed to sit up and dangle his feet over the side of the bed. Staring out at the door of the Hospital wing he decided to try standing. Even if he fell onto his butt it would be worth two seconds of shaky victory

Harry got up onto his legs for all about twenty milliseconds before he fell back onto the bed. He covered his mouth so the nurse wouldn't hear his cry of pain. _Nothing broken so--_

"Potter what the hell are you doing?" a surprised male said, interrupting his thoughts.

Harry lifted his head up, to see Malfoy standing by the entry door in between the rows of beds. Harry shook his head. He didn't want to even attempt to speak now, or he'd get teased for the rest of his life. He could count on it.

Malfoy would use his state of weakness to make sure Harry never lived it down. Harry could bet his entire Gringotts vault on it.

"Oh come on Potter. You should be able to speak by now!" Malfoy exclaimed. Harry could only glare at Malfoy while shaking his head.

"You're kidding me!"

_No Malfoy I'm not. I cannot talk, well not really. And I'm not about to embarrass myself in front of you! So please get that nasty looking cut fixed up and leave me to cry myself to sleep because I'm SO tired of this place_.

Harry could tell Malfoy had come here to get the cut on his arm healed because blood was starting to seep through a crudely made bandage.

A moment of silence laid out between the two before Malfoy spoke again, much to Harry's distress, or so he thought.

"Well, Potter."

_Oh here it comes…_

"It seems like you could use a hand. Would you like me to help you stand up?"

Harry stared at Malfoy with wide eyes. The last thing he had ever thought Malfoy would do was offer him help. Harry thought maybe he really had died. He opened his mouth to say "What!" but all that he managed was an undignified squawk.

Malfoy returned to his old self and laughed, but there wasn't an insulting tone to his manner as he walked up to Harry and offered out his hand.

"Come on, Potter, grab my hand. We'll get you up."

Harry stared at the hand before taking it and letting Malfoy pull him to his feet. He felt very... extremely... no, he felt so absurdly awkward being held up by Malfoy that he suspected he HAD died.

Malfoy was letting Harry basically grab on his arm, and it more or less looked like Harry was desperately hugging him. As if he was some stupid girl clinging onto Malfoy because he was the love of his life.

_Ha! Like THAT would ever happen. Me like Malfoy in anyway? Not bloody likely! _Harry though and tried to point that he wanted to be put back down on the bed. He was embarrassed and no longer wanted to stand like this. Freedom wasn't going to come at this price today!

"Oh, come on, Potter. We both know you want to walk around a bit. Let me help you take a few steps before you start freaking out." Malfoy said.

Harry stared at him ludicrously. _What is wrong with Malfoy? Was my sanity kept because he sacrificed his for me?_ _Yes that's got to be it, or else Malfoy is under some sort of spell._

Harry nodded his head, and Malfoy slowly walked one, two, three steps with Harry. Harry was very stiff and slow as he lifted one leg up and the other down. He was working very hard to control his legs and he wanted to do this right. The fourth step was going more smoothly when Madame Pomfrey returned and screamed in an angered fright.

"MALFOY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH POTTER?"

The scream stopped all movement from Harry and Malfoy and they stood still to look guiltily at the medi-witch. The healer gave Harry one evil glare before snapping, "Potter, get back to your bed now or you will never leave it!"

Harry grumbled in his head with a few choice words. But outside, he was silent.

"Actually, _Malfoy_ carry Potter to his bed. He should not even be trying to walk right now." Madame Pomfrey ordered, stressing Malfoy's surname to get her point across that she didn't care about objections.

Harry wanted to object as Malfoy hooked a hand under his legs and picked him up like a bride on her wedding night.

_'I feel like--a complete--idiot!'_ he screamed inside his head.

Malfoy seemed to read his mind. "Potter, she's really angry so please, just let me carry you to the bed without using that ridiculous squeaking you call your voice." Malfoy whispered.

Harry sent him a wise glare but Malfoy chose to ignore it. He set Harry down on the bed in a straight line and turned to meet the wrath of Madame Pomfrey.

She didn't disappoint him. "Oh, for Merlin's bear, Malfoy! I need to heal your arm too? Do you boys have any common sense?" she asked with exasperation.

_Must not,_ Harry commented in his mind.

"Malfoy, come with me, and Potter, get rest. I mean it!" The nurse growled out menacingly.

Harry gave them both a glare, but Malfoy only smiled at Harry reassuringly. When the medi-witch's back was turned Malfoy mouthed, "Good luck walking when you can."

Harry stared at him like he was Ron's worst nightmare, a tarantula.

_Malfoy deserves to take a trip to the loony bin. And I deserve to get out of this goddamn room! _he complained in his mind.

Then the room was empty, and he was alone again.

* * *

OKay, now you may review if you so wish to do! Oh and just as a reminder, criticism is always accepted but if it's presented rudely, I'm saying this right now, don't bother posting the criticism until you can be polite about pointing out mistakes. It gets your point across and is received well, so please make the effort to be respectful if not of the story, of the author. If you cannot be mature about this reminder, do not comment on it:P 

Okay now to thank my lovely reviewers! c**razyfrog, I glow in the dark36, chaeli.mee., QuestofDreams**. And another Thank You to all who read and came back to read it again.


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